Virtue Epistemology: Why Uncle Andrew Couldn’T Hear the Animals Speak
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1 Virtue Epistemology: Why Uncle Andrew Couldn’t Hear the Animals Speak One of the most fascinating scenes in The Chronicles of Narnia features an incident that is truly puzzling. The scene takes place in The Magician’s Nephew . Four lucky humans (Digory, Polly, Uncle Andrew, and Frank the Cabby) and one very unhappy Witch (Jadis) watch as Aslan sings the new world of Narnia into existence. When the newly-created Talking Animals begin to speak, the human witnesses are amazed to find that they can understand them. Everyone, that is, except Uncle Andrew. All he can hear is barkings, howlings, and the like (MN, Chapter 10, p. 75). But why? Why wasn’t Uncle Andrew able to understand like everyone else? This is the sort of question asked by virtue epistemologists. And as we shall see, virtue epistemologists can shed a great deal of light on the puzzle before us. But before looking at the insights that virtue epistemologists can bring us, let’s get clear on what virtue epistemology is . Epistemology is the branch of philosophy concerned with the study of knowledge and belief. Epistemologists seek to answer fundamental questions like: “What is knowledge?” “How do people come to know things?” “ Can we really know anything?” “When is a belief justified?” “Are any beliefs one hundred percent certain?” and “Is the hoky poky really what it’s all about?” One hot topic among epistemologists centers on the distinction between believing something to be true and knowing that it’s true. Clearly, I can’t know something unless it’s true. Anyone who says, “I know the Eiffel Tower is in London,” is clearly mistaken. At the same time, however, not all true beliefs constitute knowledge. After all, a six-year-old, on hearing that C.S. Lewis lived his adult life in England, may form the true belief that Lewis lived in Oxford. But she may do so because Oxford is the only city in England she’s ever heard of, and she naïvely thinks that all people from England live in Oxford. Surely in this case the child doesn’t know that Lewis lived in Oxford; she just made a lucky guess. Knowledge, therefore, requires something more than just true belief. The person must be justified in holding the belief. And what is justification exactly? Philosophers are divided on this question. Some argue that the person holding the belief must herself understand that her belief is based on solid evidence. Others argue that one’s belief need only be formed through a process that reliably produces true beliefs, regardless of whether the person understands this process. Such traditional approaches to the issue of justification share what we might call an outward-inward approach. These approaches begin by explaining what counts as a good way of acquiring beliefs. And they conclude that if a particular belief has been acquired in this way, then the person holding the belief holds it justifiably. Virtue epistemology is a recent theory of knowing that seeks to reverse the traditional assumptions about how we determine whether a person is justified in his or her beliefs. In 1980 the philosopher Ernest Sosa suggested that we should define justification in terms of intellectual virtues. 1 Intellectual virtues are kinds of inward excellences, such as the ability to reason skillfully or to perceive truth. Virtue epistemologists, following Sosa, argue that we should define justification in terms of such virtues. So, suppose we ask whether a person is justified in holding a belief in a particular situation. The virtue epistemologist takes an inward-outward 1 Ernest Sosa, “The Raft and the Pyramid: Coherence versus Foundations in the Theory of Knowledge,” Midwest Studies in Philosophy (1980), pp. 3–25. 2 approach and answers that, if the belief resulted from an appropriate intellectual virtue, then the person justifiably formed that belief. The general strategy of virtue epistemology is to analyze a person’s beliefs in terms of the intellectual virtues the believer possesses—or lacks. By employing this strategy, we will find that a great deal is revealed about why Uncle Andrew failed to form true beliefs about the Narnia animals. In asking whether Uncle Andrew possessed the intellectual virtues needed to form justified beliefs, we first need to identify what these virtues are. Lorraine Code, one of the first philosophers to respond to Sosa’s virtue epistemology, argues that intellectual virtues should be understood in terms of one’s epistemic responsibilities .2 Whether a person meets her epistemic responsibilities will be “a matter of orientation toward the world and toward oneself as a knowledge-seeker in the world.” 3 More specifically, Code remarks, “[i]ntellectually virtuous persons value knowing and understanding how things really are….They resist the temptation to live in fantasy or in a world of dream or illusion, considering it better to know, despite the tempting comfort and complacency a life of fantasy or illusion can offer.” 4 From Code’s general comments on epistemic responsibility, it’s possible to identify at least four central virtues of a responsible seeker of knowledge. Such a person: (1) will value truth for its own sake; (2) will not believe things simply because she wants them to be true; (3) will not allow fears to dictate what she believes; (4) will recognize her own limitations as a seeker of knowledge. Let’s now examine whether Uncle Andrew possessed or lacked these four intellectual virtues. By the time we’re finished, it will be clear why Uncle Andrew couldn’t hear the Narnia animals talk. Did Uncle Andrew Value Truth for Its Own Sake? Code remarks that one characteristic of intellectually virtuous people is that they embrace knowledge “as good in itself, not just instrumentally good.” 5 Her point is that virtuous seekers of truth will not seek to understand things merely as a means to accomplish some further goals. Rather, they will value an accurate understanding of the world as an end in itself. Importantly, a search for truth is not the same thing as the attempt to ensure that one never holds any false beliefs. Some philosophers have made this mistake. For example, the nineteenth-century philosopher W.K. Clifford, in a famous essay titled “The Ethics of Belief,” declares that “it is wrong always, everywhere and for everyone to believe anything upon insufficient evidence.” The misguided attempt to avoid at all costs bolding any false beliefs was the downfall of the renegade dwarfs in The Last Battle . The dwarfs had been fooled into thinking that a donkey dressed up in a lion suit was actually Aslan. In time, the dwarfs discover 2 Lorraine Code, Epistemic Responsibility (Hanover, NH: University Press of New England, 1987). “Epistemic” responsibilities are simply those duties of believing, doubting, and so forth that fall within the subject area of epistemology. 3 Ibid , p. 58. 4 Ibid , p. 59. 5 Ibid , p. 59. 3 the trickery and vow never to be taken in by anyone again. When King Tirian later appeals to them to join Aslan’s forces, they reply: “You must think we’re blooming soft in the head, that you must….We’ve been taken in once and now you expect us to be taken in again the next minute. We’ve no more use for stories about Aslan, see!” Tirian explains that he’s talking about the real Aslan. But the dwarfs simply respond, “Where’s he? Who’s he? Show him to us!” (LB, Chapter 7, p. 707). In demanding absolute proof, the dwarfs are not seeking to ensure that they have the facts about Aslan. Rather, they’re ultimate goal is to make sure they aren’t fooled again. This becomes clear when they eventually do come face to face with Aslan, who prepares a great feast for them. But the dwarfs are so closed off to the possibility that Aslan is actually before them that they don’t recognize him or the goodness of his gifts. Aslan explains that the dwarfs “have chosen cunning instead of belief” (LB, Chapter 13, p. 748). As anyone who has channel-surfed through late-night infomercials knows, sometimes people develop false beliefs by being too naïve. Yet, it’s equally true that a person can fail to acquire true beliefs by being too cynical. The dwarfs’ problem is that they don’t value truth for its own sake. Instead, they seek to understand the world around them only so far as this is consistent with their ultimate goal of never holding false beliefs. Uncle Andrew also seems to have an overarching commitment to avoid naïve beliefs at any cost. When he first hears the roar of Aslan at the creation of Narnia, he recognizes that the sound is indeed a song. But he tells himself that the source of the noise if “only” a lion, remarking for his own benefit, “Who ever heard of a lion singing?” (MN, Chapter 10, p. 75). Lewis comments that Uncle Andrew “tried to make himself believe that he could hear nothing but roaring,…[and] the trouble about trying to make yourself stupider than you really are is that you very often succeed. Uncle Andrew did. He soon did hear nothing but roaring in Aslan’s song.” When at last Aslan spoke and said, “Narnia, awake!” we find that Uncle Andrew “didn’t hear any words; he heard only a snarl” (MN, Chapter 10, p. 75). One reason why Uncle Andrew was blind to things that were perfectly obvious to his companions is that he was “dreadfully practical” (MN, Chapter 10, p. 75). When Uncle Andrew witnesses Narnia’s creation, he has no interest in understanding what he’s seeing.